He whistled. “I’m not even sure what to say about that.”
A speechless Cary Taylor spoke volumes.
I joined Gideon in the living room, and we sat on the floor at the coffee table to eat the prized caviar with mini toast and crème fraiche. We watched a rerun of a New York-set police procedural that just happened to include a scene filmed on the street in front of the Crossfire.
“I think it’d be cool to see a building I owned on TV like that,” I said.
“It’s not bad, if they don’t close off the street for hours to film.”
I bumped shoulders with him. “Pessimist.”
We crawled into Gideon’s bed at ten thirty and watched the last half of a show while curled up together. Sexual tension crackled in the air between us, but he didn’t make any overtures so I didn’t either. I suspected he was still trying to make amends for the hotel, trying to prove that he wanted to spend time with me not “actively fucking.”
It worked. As much as I desired his outrageously sexy body, it felt good just hanging out together.
He slept in the nude, which was fabulous for me to cuddle up against. I tossed one leg over his, wrapped an arm around his waist, and rested my cheek over his heart. I don’t remember the ending of the show, so I suppose I fell asleep before it was over.
When I woke it was still dark in the room and I’d rolled to the far side of my half of the bed. I sat up to see the digital clock face on Gideon’s nightstand and found it was barely three in the morning. I usually slept straight through the night and thought maybe the strange surroundings were keeping me from sleeping deeply; then Gideon moaned and shifted restlessly and I realized what had disturbed me. The sound he made was pained, his subsequent hiss of breath tormented.
“Don’t touch me,” he whispered harshly. “Get your fucking hands off of me!”
I froze, my heart racing. His words sliced through the dark, filled with fury.
“You sick bastard.” He writhed, his legs kicking at the covers. His back arched on a groan that sounded perversely erotic. “Don’t. Ah, Christ…It hurts.”
He strained, his body twisting. I couldn’t bear it.
“Gideon.” Because Cary had nightmares sometimes, I knew better than to touch a man in the throes of one. Instead, I knelt on my side of the bed and called his name. “Gideon, wake up.”
Stilling abruptly, he fell to his back, tense and expectant. His chest heaved with panting breaths. His cock was hard and lay heavily along his belly.
I spoke firmly, although my heart was breaking. “Gideon. You’re dreaming. Come back to me.”
He deflated into the mattress. “Eva…?”
“I’m here.” Shifting, I moved out of the way of the moonlight, but saw no luminous glitter that would tell me his eyes were open. “Are you awake?”
His breathing began to slow, but he didn’t speak. His hands were fisted in the bottom sheet. I pulled the shirt I was wearing over my head and dropped it on the bed. I sidled closer, reaching out with a tentative hand to touch his arm. When he didn’t move, I caressed him, my fingertips sliding gently over the hard muscle of his biceps.
“Gideon?”
He jerked awake. “What? What is it?”
I sat back on my heels with my hands on my thighs. I saw him blink at me, and then shove both hands through his hair. I could feel the nightmare clinging to him, could sense it in the rigidness of his body.
“What’s wrong?” he asked gruffly, pushing up onto one elbow. “You okay?”
“I want you.” I stretched out against him, aligning my bare body to his. Pressing my face into his damp throat, I sucked gently on his salty skin. I knew from my own nightmares that being held and loved could push the specters back into the closet for a little while.
His arms came around me, his hands running up and down the curve of my spine. I felt him let go of the dream with a long, deep sigh.
Pushing him to his back, I climbed over him and sealed my mouth over his. His erection was notched between the lips of my sex and I rocked against him. The feel of his hands in my hair, holding me to take control of the kiss, quickly made me wet and ready. Fire licked just beneath my skin. I stroked my clit up and down his thick length, using him to masturbate until he made a rough sound of desire and rolled to put me beneath him.
“I don’t have any condoms in the house,” he murmured before wrapping his lips around my nipple and sucking gently.
I loved that he wasn’t prepared. This wasn’t his fuck pad; this was his home and I was the only lover he’d brought into it. “I know you mentioned swapping bills of health when we talked about birth control and that’s the responsible way to go, but-”
“I trust you.” He lifted his head, looking at me in the faint light of the moon. Kneeing my legs open, he pushed the first bare inch inside me. He was scorching hot and silky soft.
“Eva,” he breathed, clutching me tightly to him. “I’ve never…Christ, you feel so good. I’m so glad you’re here.”
I tugged his lips down to mine and kissed him. “Me, too.”
![Bared to You pic_29.jpg](https://litlife.club/books/154831/read/images/pic_29.jpg)
I woke the way I’d fallen asleep, with Gideon on top of me and inside me. His gaze was heavy-lidded with desire as I rose from unconsciousness into heated pleasure. His hair hung around his shoulders and face, looking even sexier for being sleep-tousled. But best of all, there were no shadows in his gorgeous eyes, nothing lingering from the pain that haunted his dreams.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he murmured with a wicked grin, sliding in and out. “You’re warm and soft. I can’t help but want you.”
I stretched my arms over my head and arched my back, pressing my breasts into his chest. Through the slender arch-topped windows, I saw the soft light of dawn fill the sky. “Umm…I could get used to waking up like this.”
“That was my thought at three this morning.” He rolled his hips and sank deep into me. “I thought I’d return the favor.”
My body revved to life, my pulse quickening. “Yes, please.”
![Bared to You pic_30.jpg](https://litlife.club/books/154831/read/images/pic_30.jpg)
Cary was gone when we got to my apartment, leaving a note behind to tell me he was on a job, but would be back in plenty of time for pizza with Trey. Since I’d been too upset to enjoy my pie the night before, I was ready to try again when I was having a good time.
“I have a business dinner tonight,” Gideon said, leaning over my shoulder to read. “I was hoping you’d come with me and make it bearable.”
“I can’t bail out on Cary,” I said apologetically, turning to face him. “Chicks before dicks and all that.”
His mouth twitched and he caged me to the breakfast bar. He was dressed for work in a suit I’d picked out, a graphite gray Prada with a soft sheen. His tie was the blue one that matched his eyes, and as I’d lain on his bed and watched him dress, I’d had to fight the urge to take it all off him. “Cary isn’t a chick. But I get the point. I want to see you tonight. Can I come over after the dinner and stay the night?”
Heated anticipation rushed through me. I smoothed my hands over his vest, feeling like I had a special secret because I knew exactly what he looked like without his clothes on. “I’d love it if you did.”
“Good.” He gave a satisfied nod. “I’ll make us coffee, while you get dressed.”
“The beans are in the freezer. The grinder’s next to the coffee pot.” I pointed. “And I like lots of milk and a little sweetener.”
When I came out twenty minutes later, Gideon grabbed two travel mugs of coffee off the breakfast bar and we headed down to the lobby. Paul hustled us out the front door and into the backseat of Gideon’s waiting Bentley SUV.
As Gideon’s driver pulled into traffic, Gideon checked me out and said, “You’re definitely trying to kill me. Are you wearing the garters again?”
Pulling the hem of my skirt up, I showed him where the top of my black silk stockings hooked to my black lace garter belt.